The Intern (The Dalton Family #4)(100)

“She’s my client.”

“So, that makes this different? If anything, it should make it worse.”

“It makes her off-limits,” he snapped. “We’re going to her place to see some dresses. That’s it.”

He was getting worked up, proving my point even further, and that only made me laugh harder.

“Something you could do in the office,” I said.

“You’re fucking starting again.”

“And, now, I’m dropping it.”

Brett moved, so I couldn’t see his face. He’d done that on purpose, which was the final bit of proof I needed.

Damn it, I loved it when I was right.

Eventually, he’d admit it since he sucked at keeping secrets from me.

We stepped out of the elevator and walked down the hall. When we reached the apartment, Brett knocked on the door, but James wasn’t the one who answered it.

Jesus fucking Christ.

The chick standing in front of us was the hottest woman I’d ever seen. And that wasn’t something I said often, considering I worked in the music industry and was surrounded by the most beautiful women in the world.

Brett said hello to her, and then he immediately walked into the apartment.

I didn’t.

I stayed right where I was, not wanting to move a goddamn inch unless it was to get closer to her. I lifted my hand off the bottom of the pizza boxes and held it out. “Max Graham,” I said.

As she shook it, I felt the lightness of her grip, the softness of her skin, the heat that poured through her fingers.

“Eve Kennedy, James’s stylist.”

She was too gorgeous to be a stylist. She should act or model or stand naked in my office, so I could look at her every moment of the fucking day.

“Brett and I are partners,” I told her in case she thought I was the pizza delivery boy.

“Do you represent actors like Brett?”

“Nah, I work with musicians.”

Her brows rose, and I could tell she was intrigued. “Really? I need to hear more about this. I’m a music junkie.”

“How about you invite me in first?”

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you standing in the hallway with food. Come in, please.”

Once I got inside, I set the pizzas on the table, and I grabbed a beer that Brett had put in the fridge.

“James will be right out,” Eve said to him. “She wanted to take a quick shower before she tried anything on.”

I held the pizza box open for Eve. After she took a slice, I got one for myself, and then the three of us went into the living room. Brett and I sat on the couch, and Eve took a spot on the ottoman.

“I spoke to your team and kept their recommendations in mind when choosing each dress,” Eve said to Brett, now in full business mode. “Several are black, but more than half are in jewel tones, which look incredible with James’s skin tone…”

I stopped listening.

I wasn’t interested in their conversation.

Instead, my mind was picturing Eve in the shower with water dripping down her skin. Her long, lean legs spread just enough that I could see underneath her pussy, her C-sized tits having the hardest fucking nipples.

When I realized she had caught me staring at her, I wedged the beer between my knees and took a bite of my slice. “When does the fashion show start?”

“Right now,” James said.

I looked in James’s direction but only for a few seconds because my gaze was being dragged back to Eve. She was speaking to Brett about the dress James had on, and I was watching the way her lips moved. How her tongue casually licked the inside corner of her mouth. How her eyes had turned so serious.

I wondered what her expression would be if I told her where I wanted to put my tongue.

“So, what do you think?” Eve asked Brett.

“It’s good,” Brett said. “Let’s see the next one.”

Neither of the ladies knew Brett like I did, so they had no idea he was doing everything in his power not to toss James over his shoulder and carry her to the closest bed. But his face and his voice told me how hard he was fighting that urge.

I wasn’t too far behind him.

This fashion show needed to end. I was more interested in spending time with Eve than watching James put on these fucking dresses.

“How many will she be trying on?” I asked.

“Twelve,” Eve said.

That meant we had eleven more to go.

The only good thing about this situation was that Eve’s attention would be on James, and that meant my attention could be on her.

And that was what I planned to do the whole time my ass was on this couch—memorize every inch of her, every twitch of her lips, every freckle I was able to see.

Finishing off my slice of pizza, I grabbed my beer, kicked my legs onto the ottoman, not far from where Eve was sitting, and said, “Looks like we’re going to be here for a while, so I might as well get comfortable.”





“Tell me some music dirt,” Eve said, smiling at me, as the two of us stood on the balcony outside James’s apartment. “I’ve only ever worked with actors. I’m so out of the know when it comes to your industry.”

Once James had finished trying on all the outfits, I’d gone out to get some air, trying to calm my fucking cock. It had been hard since dress two. The smirk Eve had given me during dress eight had me gripping the goddamn armrest of the couch, so she wouldn’t find herself tossed over my fucking shoulder and stripped naked on the way to a bedroom.